Not For A Grade
by tea and sugar for two
Summary: A shy college student with few friends, Roxas has his eyes set on one target: his bookish English professor.


Flipping through his sketch book, Roxas finally landed on a blank page. Bored, he shifted in his desk and looked up at his English professor, who was likely droning on about grammar rules. The class topic was mind-numbingly painful but worth the sacrifice of a few choice brain cells. Professor Marks stood before him, nearly hiding behind his podium. Roxas had taken every class that Marks had taught over the last few trimesters, four in total. However, he wasn't exactly an English major. He liked to write, sure, but when it came down to it he was there for the D. He set his red ballpoint pen to the paper, quickly spewing out one last gesture drawing of his professor.

"So remember to read the last chapter of our book before next class." Professor Marks glanced at his watch, then back up at the class. "Alright, off you go. Term papers are due in a week."

Wearily he leaned back against the projector screen, removing thin frames from the tip of his rather long nose and rubbing them clean on his worn, collared shirt. As the class filed out of the lecture hall, he stepped over to his desk to gather up his coffee thermos. Shuffling over to the disgruntled man, Roxas couldn't help but take in Professor Marks' lanky body, his eyes travelling slowly up his frame. Despite his weathered clothing, his movements were fluid and graceful, if not a bit exaggerated. Adjusting a tattered satchel over his shoulder, Roxas cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Hey."

Looking up from his papers, Marks blinked at the student in front of him. "Yes, Roxas? Do you have a question about the term paper?" He waited expectantly for an answer, brushing a few stray strands of ponytailed hair out of his face.

"Yeah. I have a few questions about the format...perhaps we could go over them later?" Pursing his lips slightly, Roxas prayed that a blush wouldn't creep over his face. The professor's slanted eyes unnerved him a bit, so he picked at the cuff of his ragged flannel sleeve instead. "If uh, you don't mind...?"

"Oh, of course, yes, would you be available during my office hours later today?" Marks smiled encouragingly at the shy student and slung his bag over his shoulders. "I've got a couple of other appointments, so maybe if you come around three?"

"Three sounds good to me." He nodded and turned quickly, accidentally sweeping a stack of lecture notes off of Professor Marks' desk. Cursing under his breath, Roxas bent and started carefully picking up the wave of papers on the floor.

"It's alright, happens to me all the time- ."

Marks kneeled close to his side, gathering the scattered quizzes. He reached across Roxas, accidentally brushing against the smaller student's arm. "Oops, sorry there-." Marks' cleared his throat and Roxas thought he could see a pinkish blush dissolve into his hairline: at least, he wanted to see it.

"Oh, uh, no..." Roxas' face went hot as his own blush takes hold. "...problem." His voice quiet as he passed the last of the Marks smiled warmly at him, his eyes flicking across Roxas' face; he hurriedly grabbed up the remaining papers. "Th-thank you, Roxas." He straightened, shoving the papers unceremoniously into a folder. "So, three then?" Giving a little nod, Marks headed towards the door, holding it open. "Yeah, see you soon..." As he slipped through the door, Roxas partly wished he didn't exist.

* * *

The absent-minded professor was seated in his cramped office, a pile of ungraded quizzes before him on the weathered desk. Eyes glazing over behind his black-rimmed frames, he tapped out a steady beat against the desk with a red ballpoint pen. With a sigh, he made a large red mark on the page and dropped the pen, yawning and rubbing a large hand through messy, ponytailed hair. He glanced towards the paperback on the edge of the desk and considered reaching for it, before remembering he only just started grading this batch of quizzes and he didn't really want to be stuck in his office all night trying to finish them. /We'll continue this later…/ he silently promised the book as he turned back to his teacherly duties. Picking up the red pen once more in defeat he flips over the next quiz; this student's handwriting was even worse than the last. He bent closer, practically squinting at the messy scrawl.

Distantly he became aware of a knocking and a muffled "Hello?" from outside his door. He straightened in his seat, glad for an excuse to look away from the abysmal quiz. "Yes, come in." As the door opened he began to shove the quizzes back into their designated folder, crinkling them slightly in the process. He looked up to see that his visitor was Roxas from ENG 257. His student appeared a little nervous, and Marks realized that this was the first time he had ever spoken to him outside of class, even though he was almost positive that Roxas had taken several of his other classes- at least, he felt sure it had been him in the back of the room during ENG 225 last semester.

"Ah, Roxas, have a seat." He indicated the coffee-stained chair across from him. As his student made to sit down with a muttered "Thanks", he glanced around his desk for the cap to the red ballpoint still in his hand, and unable to locate it he gave up and shoved the pen into a plastic cup at the side of his desk. Roxas placed his paper on the desk with a glance up at Professor Marks.

"So, what's your question?" Smiling warmly over at his student, Marks scooted his chair closer to better read the paper, shoving his mug of cold coffee out of the way.

"Er…I…" His student fumbled with the zipper on his bag, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Marks had dealt with a few shy students before- he wouldn't blame them for being taken aback by his odd appearance- so he gave a nod and a smile and allowed Roxas a few more seconds to gather his thoughts. It appeared his student was at a complete loss for words, glancing between Marks' face and the paper in front of them.

"Well, let's see, was the question over format or content?" he offered. Roxas looked back up at him, a small, sheepish smile finally appearing.

"Format, actually…"

"Alright…" Marks pulled the paper towards himself, eyes poring over the page. He was unsurprised by the high quality of Roxas' writing; he had to admit, the kid had a knack for it. "Looks good so far, only a grammar issue here or there…" Lost in the words he pulled his glasses off, rubbing them clean on his wrinkled shirt.

"I think it might be good if you separate your ideas here into two separate parts…" He looked up from the paper to see that Roxas' eyes were fixated on a spot on Marks' cheek.

"Oh… right…" His student blinked, gaze traveling back upwards to meet his eyes. "S-sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for." An embarrassed grin curled across Marks' face as he suddenly realized the cause of his student's staring. "Oh, uh, I forgot my students don't usually see these…." He cleared his throat and replaced the glasses on his nose, the frames effectively hiding the two dark tattoos on his cheeks. "So, your paper is in good shape. You're one of my best writers, so you don't have much to worry about. Is there anything else you want to ask?"

"What do they mean?" Roxas' voice was quiet, eyes full of curiosity.

Professor Marks blinked. "What… Oh, uhm…" Feeling flustered at being asked such a question in quite an abrupt manner, he waved his hand dismissively. "It's a little personal, I guess… I got them during a bad point in my life."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to, uhm…" Roxas stood suddenly, his face red. He bent forward to reach for his bag- tight jeans slipping a little lower, revealing slender hip bones. "Thanks."

"No problem, Roxas. Feel free to stop by if you have any more questions." Professor Marks can't stop his eyes from wandering to that small bit of exposed skin, and then progressively to a tight ass- he glanced away quickly, swallowing, and sincerely hoped that Roxas hadn't noticed. "Have a good weekend."

He thought he saw a small smile on Roxas' face as he left the office, closing the door gently behind him.

* * *

Curled up in the corner of his tiny studio Roxas was smashed between the twin mattress on the floor and his most glorious possession: a towering JVC stereo system plastered with Tears for Fears and Smashing Pumpkins stickers, which was naturally blasting out loud enough to make the floor boards vibrate and constant banging on the walls from the resident asshole next door. Papers were scattered all over the floor in swirling messes of balled up pieces of shit work he tried to write in his journal and inked sketches that were overlaid on his classwork. Taking a draw from his cigarette he blew out, watching the smoke dance around him before smashing it into an overflowing ashtray that needed emptying about three weeks ago. Staring at the ceiling, his brief interlude of nirvana was broken by a phone screaming to get his attention.

Lazily pushing himself up, he dug through a pile of clothing from where the sound of the ring was coming from. Unearthing his phone, he shoved the receiver to his ear as the cord instantly began tangling itself around his calf.

"Oh, hello, is Roxas there?" He could barely hear the guy through the blare of Nickelback in the background. Shouting a flustered "Hello?" through the receiver, Roxas could hear the asshat next door screaming "Turn it down!" And once he recognized the voice on the other end he actually did. Which was rare.

As a nervous voice stammered through the phone Roxas stumbled over a pile of laundry and slapped his hand down on the power button, silencing the music. "Roxas? This is, uhm, Professor Marks... You left your paper in my office the other day..." Pursing his lips, Roxas felt his sweaty fingers fuse to the plastic of the phone. /He must think I'm an idiot…/

"Can I pick it up, or…?" Despite feelings of idiocy a small smile played on his lips at the prospect of seeing his bookish Professor alone twice in a week.

"Yes, either you could pick it up in my office this afternoon or I could hand it back to you after next class, whichever is easiest. Though you may want to come get it earlier so you can more time to revise." Rox could still hear a slight shift in Marks' voice as he spoke, almost hopeful. Fumbling around with the phone cord, he felt his mouth going dry as he answered. "I'll just stop by your office. Is one alright?" Noting the fact that he smelled like the dumpsters behind White Castle, Roxas scanned his room with a hint of desperation for something slightly less crumpled than the clothes under his feet. "Yes, one is perfect. See you then." The professor hung up and Roxas scrambled over his piles of shit towards the shower.


End file.
